


Lycanthrope

by orphan_account



Category: It - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Werewolf Richie Tozier
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-03-29 13:29:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13928085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Eddie Kaspbrak has a new best friend, Richie Tozier, who he may or may not be fucking on the side. He has his own secrets, but so does Richie. And maybe they're a little more dangerous than Eddie ever anticipated.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this really is just a bunch of werewolf fucking. i don't know what else you expected from me. anybody that knows me knows how passionate i am about fucking werewolves. this gets real raunchy real fast, we're going in full throttle

The bar was loud, dim, and smelled like too many different alcohols mixed together. If anything it was more of a dive: the floor was concrete painted a chipped red, there were old speakers mounted on the walls and towering in the corners, and a live band was setting up on the stage - Ben told him they played ‘indie rock,’ which he had to assume meant they pawned off poor playing as a stylistic choice.

There was a squeal of microphone feedback, and everyone’s attention was pulled to the band. The lead singer, a red headed woman with plum lipstick and heavy eye makeup, laughed nervously. “Sorry,” she said, and adjusted her guitar strap on her shoulders. “Good evening ladies and germs,” she plucked out a discordant tune on her guitar, “we’re gonna play some music we put together special for you all… you might know some of these, you might not, feel free to sing along if you do.” She cleared her throat. “Or, y’know, don’t, cause we’re getting paid to entertain you so you’re not allowed to do it for free.” Scattered laughter. “Alright. We’re Lycanthrope, and we hope you have a good time.”

With that they started to play a song Eddie never heard before in his life, but it was a pleasant surprise. It wasn't something he would ever listen to on his own, but it was still good. He sipped his water and actually enjoyed himself when he watched their performance between idle scrolls on instagram’s explore page and CNN. Eddie could’ve sworn he made eye contact with the drum player right before he winked, but the bar was pretty packed, so it could’ve been anyone. He ignored it.

It took an hour for their set to come to an end, and for top 40’s music to play through the speakers in their stead. Eddie spotted Ben chatting up the lead singer, aka the only reason either of them were there. He turned back to the bar and tried to beat his high score on a game.

“Imagine my disappointment,” someone said as they squeezed between Eddie and the seat next to him, “when I go to buy a drink for this guy that’s totally been checking me out all night, and he’s getting _waters_.” Eddie turned his head to see the drummer from the live band. He set his phone face down on the bar and gave him a level look, trying to come off as more calm than he felt; maybe even say something suave.

“Suck to suck,” is what he said, and he wanted to die. Regardless, the drummer burst into laughter and leaned heavily on the bar.

“Richie.” He held his hand out to shake.

“Eddie.” He took it.

“Awlright,” Richie said, and raised his hands in surrender, “if I can’t get you drunk to like me, can I get you some food?” Eddie raised his eyebrows.

“Food? That’s hot,” he said sarcastically.

“Maybe I just wanna get to know you, Edison, no attachments.” He was saying one thing, but the hand that walked up his thigh said something entirely different.

“Bizarrely enough, not my name,” he said, twitching when Richie’s fingers found his hip. They stared each other down in some unspoken competition on who would break the tension first, a competition Eddie lost.

“‘Scuse me,” he drew the attention of the bartender, “is the cook still here?” He pretended not to catch Richie pump his fist in victory. They ordered a basket of mozzarella sticks to share.

 

They sat at a table towards the back of the bar, where it was a little darker and a lot quieter. They were able to actually talk, there, and to his surprise the conversation wasn’t all that bad. Richie was fun, and attractive in a dorky, endearing kind of way. 

His mouth ran faster than his brain, he moved his hands a lot when he talked - something he never really stopped doing - his jokes were crude and inappropriate, and when he smiled he showed off too-big teeth. There was something about him that made Eddie laugh, and something about him that was admittedly sexy.

They were interrupted before their discussion ever hit a lull, by the lead singer. According to Richie her name was Beverly, but she went by Bev. “Hey, shithead,” she said, and took one of their cheese sticks, “you gonna help us pack up, or are we gonna have to leave your shit here?” Richie’s eyes widened, and he laughed nervously.

“Oh, shit,” he said, “I totally blanked. I’ll be right out.” He slid out of the booth and shrugged on his coat, stuffing three mozzarella sticks into his mouth at once. “Yo, Eds, you wanna come with? We can keep talking.”

“Oh, uh.” Eddie scratched the back of his neck and looked for Ben again, remembering he existed for the first time in almost an hour. He was talking animatedly with the bartender. He pulled out his phone to grab his attention, but already had six texts from him.

**_pm - benji > eddie_ **

**benji** ****  
_[10:41 pm] lead singer is a lesbian!! Whoops! So embarrassed… she laughed it off tho_  
_[10:41 pm] Was gonna come get you but I see you’re getting acquainted with a whole new tall glass of water ;)_  
_[10:56 pm] Talking 2 the bartender now, he’s really cool. More to follow_  
_[11:17 pm] We’re talking about the modernists!! ! He used to volunteer at the library apparently. He knowd a LOT abt books… tmi but I’m a little turned on rn_  
_[11:30 pm] UPDATE i’m climbing this man like a tree the moment he gets off shift but for now we’re analyzing our fave poems_ _  
[11:30 pm] Don’t worry about taking me home cause we’re going to his. Love you!! Be safe use protection lol_

 **eddie** ****  
_[11:48 pm] slut fjsdg_ _  
_ _[11:48 pm] i love u more, don’t get axe murdered_

“Okay,” he said. He pocketed his phone and scooted out of the booth, following Bev and Richie out to the back where their set up was partly packed into the back of a van. Richie bumped knuckles with the bass player, who introduced himself as Stan. He helped the band pack up their things, both to be helpful and because he was bored, careful with their equipment as not to break it. He didn’t know much about music, but he _did_ know that instruments were horribly expensive, and he didn’t want to find out by how much.

When they were done, Bev made a show out of slamming the doors closed and brushing off her hands. “Alright losers, we’re out,” she said. “Rich, you comin’ with?”

“Uh, maybe, j- shit, one sec.” He took Eddie by the hand and guided him back towards the bar, out of the earshot of his friends. He didn’t let go of him, opting to swing their hands between each other. “So…” he said, “I had fun tonight.”

“Me too.” Eddie rocked on his heels, admiring Richie in the moonlight. The pale light gave him a ghostly, hazy look to him, like he wasn’t quite a man out there. He was something else, beautiful and ethereal. “I like you.”

“Really? And you aren’t even drunk! Put it on the calendar.” He grinned, toothy and wide, and Eddie had to suppress a laugh. He moved his hand in Richie’s to intertwine their fingers.

“We gonna do this again?”

“Do you wanna do this again?” Eddie hummed his confirmation, biting his lower lip. He reached his free hand up Richie’s chest to his collar to brush away lint that didn’t actually exist. He let his hand come to rest on the junction of his neck and shoulder. “I’ll give you my number.”

“Okay.” He didn’t move to take out his phone.

“Okay.” He didn’t ask him to, and didn’t write it down. They stood still, eyes only moving away from each other to glance at each other’s lips. It was another unspoken competition, and the air hung heavy around them with their intentions. “I’m going to kiss you now,” Richie broke the silence, already leaning down.

“Good.” Eddie pushed himself up on his toes to meet him halfway. Richie’s lips were soft and pliant under his own. They tasted a little like mozzarella sticks and a lot like coconut chapstick.

They separated for a contemplative second, or maybe two, where they decided what direction this would take. And then Richie’s hands were cradling his face, and pulling him into a deep kiss, and Eddie fisted his hands in Richie’s lapels to drag him impossibly closer. There was nicotine and old smoke on his tongue when he licked into his open mouth, and he realized then why cigarettes were so addictive.

Someone wolf whistled from the van, frantically waved off by Richie and flipped off by Eddie. A book bag was thrown out of the passenger side window and landed adjacent, the engine rumbled, and they were left alone with their lips and their wandering hands.

“Your place or mine?” Eddie asked, kissing Richie’s jaw while he caught his breath. He nipped his earlobe and reveled in the way his breath hitched.

“I’ve got a roommate.”

“Me too.”

“Mine’s getting laid, like, right now, at our place, so unless you wanna hear it, or y’know, join in--”

“Okay, fine,” Eddie scoffed and wiggled his phone out of his pocket, falling back flat on his feet, “you’re gross.” Richie hooked his fingers into his belt loops, tugging him closer until their hips were flush together.

“Mm, you think it’s hot,” he said, placing open mouthed kisses over his neck, “you think I’m sexy.”

“Shut up,” he said without any actual intent behind it.

**_pm - boogie woogie woogie > eddie_ **

**eddie** **  
** _[12:33 am] you home????_

 **boogie woogie woogie** ****  
_[12:35 am] nah b back tmrw_ _  
_ _[12:35 am] why_

 **eddie** ****  
_[12:35 am] just gettin back from dropping off ben_ _  
_ _[12:36 am] was gonna grab some food omw & idk if i should bring some for u _

**boogie woogie woogie** **  
** _[12:36 am] u good thanks tho ily_

Eddie, for once in his natural born life, didn’t bother to answer. He shoved his phone back in his pocket and pulled Richie down for a searing kiss, then another and another.

“We should go,” Richie said. He grabbed Eddie’s ass, laughed when he canted his hips forward at the touch, and pulled away. “‘Fore we end up boning down out here.” Eddie nodded and licked his kiss swollen lips, trying to cool down a little. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d done this, hooking up with someone so soon after he’d met them, and he’d _never_ done it sober. Maybe there was something to be said there about how Richie made him feel; maybe he was just an idiot.

“Okay,” he cleared his throat, “okay.” He gave Richie a chaste kiss before he pulled away. He started to lead him to his car, and received a solid smack on the ass the moment his back was turned.

He instilled a strict _no touching while i’m driving_ rule so they didn’t crash, but it didn’t stop Richie’s hand from finding his thigh at red lights, running his finger tips up the inseam of his jeans, brushing the backs of his fingers against his crotch. The touching stopped the moment the light turned green, without fail, and Eddie thought he might combust. He opted instead to glance at Richie through the corner of his eyes, with a soft little smile. It was affectionately named his _fuck me now_ look by one Bill Denbrough, and it worked every time.

The moment his car was parked he was out, with Richie hot on his heels. They bounded up the stairs, hands loosely intertwined, Eddie a few steps behind only because of his dumb short legs. He couldn’t say he minded the view. He fumbled for his keys. Richie plastered himself to his back, busying himself with leaving wet kisses on his neck.

“Hurry up,” he whispered, pulling him close so he could feel his erection pressed against him. He slid his hands from Eddie’s hips to his front, slipping under his shirt. They covered his stomach almost completely, and arousal tugged hard at the realization. “I don’t wanna whip my dick out in this hallway, but I will.”

“I’m--” he snorted, “I’m not dignifying that with a response.” He rolled his hips back against Richie’s dick, grinning at the frustrated little hiss in his ear.

He finally got the door unlocked and shoved it open, throwing his keys in the general direction of the couch. They clattered to the floor when the pair stumbled into the living room. Richie, far too eager, tripped over Eddie’s feet trying to get in and almost brought them both down. They were still laughing when they reconnected their lips and toed off their shoes. Eddie slipped Richie’s coat off his shoulders and tossed it onto the coat rack they kept on the wall.

His own sweater wasn’t given the same care, pulled over his head and tossed to the ground. He kicked it out of the walkway so that it wasn’t stepped on later. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of Richie’s jeans and guided him to his bedroom while Richie focused in on his newly bare skin; kissing his shoulders, stroking his chest and his sides, running his fingers through the trail of hair just under his navel.

There was a _thump_ as Eddie’s back hit the door, and he arched into Richie’s heated touch, but it was cut off when he pressed a kiss to the corner of Richie’s lips and muttered, “Wait."

“Please tell me we’re not ending the night right here,” he joked.

“No, I just gotta go to the bathroom real quick,” he said. He opened up the door and gave it a light kick with his heel so it swung open. “Get comfortable or whatever, condoms are in the nightstand.”

“Ooh, love a guy that comes prepared.” He placed a loud kiss on Eddie’s cheek and slipped past him into the bedroom, allowing Eddie to hurry off to the bathroom. In reality, he just hadn’t gone out with the intention of getting laid, and wasn’t exactly ready for it. He turned on the tap so that Richie couldn’t possibly hear him, since getting clean was probably the least sexy thing in the universe, and washed his hands. He contemplated brushing his teeth, but figured they’d already been making out and there hadn’t been any problems, so he shouldn’t worry with it.

When he returned, Richie was standing in front of his bookshelf with his pants still hooked around one ankle like he’d forgotten about them. He was admiring Eddie’s license plate collection.

“You good?” He asked, snickering, and Richie startled.

“Shit,” he laughed, “sorry. Got distracted.” He kicked off his pants the rest of the way and crossed the room to pull him close. Eddie gave his narrow hips a squeeze. He backed towards the bed and sat, now level with the bulge of Richie’s boxers. He kissed the junction of his hip and thigh and palmed him through the thin fabric. He was already hard, something he considered hilarious - it wasn’t like he was any better, but Richie wasn’t the one that practically got a handy on the way there. He reached for the box of condoms Richie threw on his bed and subsequently forgot about.

“Getting straight to it, huh?”

“I was gonna blow you first, if you wanted,” he said, and rattled the box of condoms.

“You’re gonna suck my dick with a condom on?” He asked, laughing.

“Oral can be just as unsafe as other types of sex.” He informed. “Tons of diseases can be spread that way. I knew a guy that got chlamydia in his _mouth_. That’s fucking disgusting.” He shook his head. “I’m not-- I’m not saying you’re dirty, or anything, but why take the risk? There are worse STDs than chlamydia, and they’re not all treatable, and it just takes one time of being uncareful and you’re totally fucked.” Richie was silent, stroking his fingers through Eddie’s hair while he ranted.

“You’re done?” He looked at him expectantly and flashed him an unabashed smile. Eddie flushed.

“I completely ruined the mood just now, didn’t I.”

Richie hummed and pretended to think about it. “Nuh-uh,” he decided, and bent down to kiss him, tilting Eddie’s head back. Richie’s tongue traced his bottom lip, grinning when his lips parted for him. He fucked his tongue into his mouth slowly. Warmth pooled in his gut, heavy and smooth, and he was dazed even after they parted. “You’re adorable,” a kiss, “and your concern is hot,” another, “and I’m kind of into it.” Another. Eddie caught his lower lip between his teeth and pulled.

“Is that a yes or no?”

“Oh, fuck yeah,” he said. “I’m not gonna pass up on that pretty mouth.” Eddie shifted, unable to meet Richie’s darkened eyes, and pulled his underwear down his thighs. His mouth watered at the sight of his hard cock, and he had to stop from laughing at himself - purely so that Richie didn’t think he was laughing at his dick. He took out a condom and rolled it over his length.

Eddie stroked him in his hand, letting it stiffen under his touch. He gave an experimental lick to the shaft from base to tip, tracing the sensitive vein underneath with enough pressure to feel through the condom. He took the head into his mouth, sucking gently. Richie’s hips twitched forward involuntarily, held still by Eddie’s hands. He whined, fingers dipping into his hairline at the nape of his neck, giving Eddie’s hair little tugs that made him grind his hips against the bed.

“ _Fuck,_ Eddie-- shhh _it_ \--”

Richie was long, but not excessively; enough to blow all at once if he tried. He was still a little self conscious about asking him to wear a condom, anyways, so he figured he’d try to make it worth it for him. Eddie relaxed his jaw and looked up at Richie through his eyelashes as he sunk down. He let out a deep moan when his lips met his base, letting the vibrations carry through his cock, the head bumping the back of his throat.

“Oh my _god,_ ” Richie keened, the sound devolving into a choke when Eddie hollowed out his cheeks and started to bob his head. His fingers found his own hair and gripped _hard,_ trying not to buck his hips into Eddie’s mouth, babbling _oh, fuck_ ’s and _christ_ ’s and _shit_ ’s. Eddie watched him fall apart, letting himself enjoy the burn in his throat and the way Richie’s dick throbbed against his tongue.

“Eddie, mm, st-- _fuck,_ stop, stop stop--” he gave Eddie’s hair a series of weak pulls.

“Are you okay?” He asked, collecting the spit that started to dribble over his lower lip with his tongue and wiping his chin with his wrist. Richie visibly shivered at the wrecked sound of his voice.

“Yeah, Jesus, better than okay. I was gonna come,” he said. Eddie grinned. “Don’t be so fucking smug,” he teased. He leaned down and hooked his hands under Eddie’s thighs, picking him up with ease and throwing him further into the bed.

Richie shucked off his underwear the rest of the way and took his place between Eddie’s legs, settling in the cradle of his hips. He kissed and sucked at his neck until a trail of red hot marks were left to show where he’d been.

He gripped his shirt, tugging on it pitifully to ground himself or pull him closer or _something,_ his brain was a little too preoccupied to know what his body was doing. He bit his tongue when Richie decided to suck a deep mark into his collarbone. Eddie slid his hand up into Richie’s hair, carding through the strands and twisting through his curls. Richie palmed him through his jeans and his arm jerked, making him yank indelicately on knots and snags. Before his lips could form the first syllable of his apology, Richie was groaning into his shoulder and giving him a rough squeeze that made his legs go weak.

Richie popped the button on his jeans and took his sweet time pulling them down, kissing and sucking marks into his thighs until Eddie was whimpering and shaking and begging for him to _hurry up, rich, jesus christ._ He was painfully hard, hips canting upwards in their search for friction and meeting nothing. Richie tossed his pants aside and pressed a kiss to his knee. He took considerably less time with his boxers, simply pulling them down and under handing them behind himself.

“Lube’s in the uh, the, huh--” he snapped his fingers and pointed to what he was talking about, “that.”

“The nightstand?” He asked, smug grin clear in his voice, and Eddie weakly punched him in the chest.

“Fuck off.” Richie snickered and pulled out a little tube of lube. He outright laughed when the sound of the cap opening made Eddie’s dick twitch, and Eddie couldn’t help but join in.

“Alright,” he put his hand at the back of his thigh and pushed it towards his chest, putting on some accent, “open the vault.”

“You’re so fucking weird,” he said, but relaxed and hooked his other leg around Richie’s anyways. He bit his lip when his finger traced around his rim, slicking him up with lube. It teased him, never applying enough pressure to actually push in before moving to circle his hole again. “Baby, _please_ ,” he said softly, rolling his hips down, and he could feel Richie tense. He was almost concerned he fucked up with the pet name until Richie’s finger finally pressed into him. He gripped the bedsheets hard.

“We doing good up there?”

“Yup,” he croaked, eyebrows furrowing together. He shifted his hips, sighing softly when it sank down to the final knuckle. Richie started to move slowly, waiting for him to grow accustomed to the feeling before adding another. He moved his hips down, fucking himself on Richie’s fingers, head tossed back and fingers threaded through his hair for something to hold onto. Richie coaxed soft gasps and cries out of him, nipping the insides of his thighs, praising every little noise with harder, deeper thrusts of his fingers.

“You look so fucking hot like this,” Richie told him, voice low and lustful. He crooked his fingers and bit his thigh hard enough to leave purple indents of his teeth. Eddie gasped, back arching off the bed. “Can’t wait to see what you look like when I’m actually fucking you.”

“ _Richie,_ ” he said, because that’s all he could think, his brain on a loop of _richie richie richie please richie,_ “mmfuck, please--” he cut himself off with a hoarse cry when Richie’s fingers touched his prostate. He detached his hand from the bedsheets, fingers curled so tight they ached, and feverishly pulled Richie up by his shirt so he was close enough to kiss.

“You want me, baby?” He asked against his lips, and Eddie rocked his hips against his hand, stomach fluttering.

“No, actually,” he joked breathlessly, “I think I’ve had enough, try not to leave anything on your way out.” Richie gave a deep bellied laugh, resting his head in the crook of his neck and nosing gently at his collarbone.

“You think you’re so damn funny.”

“I _am_ so damn funny.”

“Funny _lookin_ ’,” Richie cut in. Eddie barked out a laugh and tugged his hair. He pressed a solid kiss to his neck and added a third finger, pumping in and out of him languidly, like he wouldn’t mind doing it for hours, like Eddie wasn’t already begging for more.

“Come on,” he begged, kissing Richie’s temple. He trailed sloppy kisses down his cheek and jaw. “Want it so bad, baby, want you to fuck me, please,” he said. He raked his fingers across Richie’s clothed shoulders.

“How can I say no to that?” He asked, and pulled out his fingers. He squeezed more lube into his hand, slathering it over his cock this time. He lined up, and the slick head brushed gently against his hole. Eddie nudged the small of his back, coaxing him forwards, feeling his cock breach him just barely.

He spread Eddie’s legs a little farther and gently pressed in, inch by inch, face buried into his hair. Eddie’s eyes rolled back. He could feel the rumble in Richie’s chest as he moaned, something he reciprocated when he bottomed out. It’d been a while since he felt so _full_.

“Fucksake,” he muttered, eyelids squeezing closed, trying to remember how to breathe. He pressed his face into Richie’s shoulder, breathing deep the smell of cigarette smoke and laundry detergent. Richie moved his hand up Eddie’s side, giving him a squeeze.

“I’m,” he ground his hips down, making them both sigh, “I’m gonna start moving.”

“ _Yes,_ ” was all Eddie had to say before Richie pulled halfway out and thrusted back in. He felt Richie’s muscles work under his hands as they moved along with his long strokes. It only added to the growing heat in his belly.

He moved back against Richie’s thrusts, biting his lip to stop from moaning like a virgin. He hit him deep and fucked him slow, and all he could think was _more, more, more_.

“Fuck, Richie, hold--” he groaned, “hold on.” Richie stopped, hovering over Eddie’s face to look him in the eyes. That gaze alone was bringing him to the edge.

He almost forgot why he’d stopped them, because _fuck_ , why would he ever, when Richie uttered a short, “Mm?”

“Let me ride you,” he blurted, having no better way to say it. Richie’s eyebrows shot up, and he flushed. “Please?” He tacked on, grimacing a little.

“ _Please,_ ” he mimicked, giggling. “You’re fucking adorable, jesus.” He pulled out and moved out from between his legs, allowing the two of them to resituate until Eddie held himself up with his knees on either side of Richie’s waist. Eddie lined up his cock and sank down without much pretense, eyes rolling back behind his closed lids. He let out a soft sigh when he was fully seated into his lap and gave an experimental shift of his hips. Richie hissed and fisted one hand in the sheets and the other on Eddie’s thigh, giving it a squeeze. When he thought he was ready, he lifted up and dropped back down.

He built up to a fast pace, bracing himself on Richie’s chest. The feeling of his aching thighs and his throbbing cock were all that he could think of as he chased that building tension in his gut. Richie gripped hard on both his hips and pulled him down to meet an upward thrust, and he saw stars.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he gasped, eyes widening from the heat that shocked up his spine. He bit his lips closed, humming fucked out little noises as Richie held him hard enough to bruise and repeated the motion, cock moving against his prostate, again and again.

“Christ, Eds, you feel so fucking good, shit, fuck--”

Eddie barely had the mind to reach down and start jerking himself off, flicking his wrist in time with their hard and fast strokes. He let out a low whine. “Rich, I’m g-- fuck, I’m gonna come,” he said, grinding down every time his ass met with Richie’s hips.

“Then come, baby.”

With a couple more properly placed thrusts, that was all it took. Eddie’s jaw dropped as the tension in his belly finally snapped and his orgasm washed over him. He moaned deep in his chest, bucking his hips, bunching Richie’s shirt in his fist. Richie didn’t stop their rapid pace, letting out a succession of soft _oh, oh, oh_ ’s as he fucked up into him, giving his hips short, sympathetic squeezes when Eddie whined from overstimulation. He tossed his head back, arching off the bed just slightly as he came.

The room was quiet outside of their heavy breathing, both of them withdrawing into themselves as they came down from their respective highs. Richie’s hands came down to massage lightly at Eddie’s aching thighs, looking up at him with a dopey, tired grin.

“Yowza,” he said, mostly to himself. Eddie bit his tongue to keep in a laugh and narrowed his eyes at him.

“Alright, we’re done here.” He lifted himself up, wincing at the feeling of Richie’s cock drag over his sensitive hole, and moved off of his lap.

“No, no, no, wait,” Richie cracked up, “come on, I’m--” He covered his face with his hands, bursting into laughter all over again every time he peeked through his fingers to see Eddie still glaring at him. “It’s just a thing! It’s a thing you say, like, like ‘wow,’ but better. It’s a good thing!” Eddie grinned despite himself, trying to make his voice sound angry even though he wasn’t.

“How am I so attracted to you?”

“My bad boy mystique, probably,” Richie said, as he removed the condom and got up to go throw it away. He slipped over his own pants, crashing to the floor with a horribly loud _thud_ and a dramatic whine.

“Oh, that’s definitely it,” Eddie laughed out. Richie jumped back into bed beside him. He trailed his hands up under his shirt, circling patterns over his sweat-cold skin. He gave his happy trail a tug to get his attention. “Hey, dork, why’d you keep your shirt on?” Richie looked down at himself and shrugged. He laughed airily.

“Fuckin’ forgot, I guess. Got too caught up in you.” He quirked his eyebrows and gave that signature toothy grin. Eddie batted his eyelashes, supporting his head on his hand.

“You’re probably hot… you should take it off.” Richie laughed, but reached behind himself and pulled the shirt over his head anyways. He shimmied his arm out of the sleeve as he rolled over on top of Eddie, elbows on either side of his head. He dipped down to press a kiss to his lips, humming when Eddie opened up underneath him.

Eddie explored the new expanse of skin bared to him, admiring his shoulder blades and slightly knobby spine. He reached up to trace his fingers over Richie’s forearm, feeling an old, deep scar there. The skin was mangled, pulled taught and thin through deep trenches in some places and raised and bubbled in others. Torn skin that felt like it barely healed, whatever happened couldn’t’ve been pretty. If anything, the badly patched together scars still hurt.

“Mm, don’t,” Richie whispered against his lips, gently pulling his arm away. He kissed the junction of Eddie’s jaw and neck, grazing his teeth over the sensitive skin. “‘S ugly.”

“Sorry,” he said, letting his hand come to rest on Richie’s side.

“You wanna know, huh?” Richie looked down at him with an understanding smile.

“If you wanna tell,” he said sheepishly. Richie pulled back to give him a big, dorky grin.

“Would you believe I tripped and fell into a blender?”

“From what I can tell? Yeah.”

“Okay, fuck you,” he said, grin unfaltering. “I fell into a bunch of broken glass when I was a kid. I don’t even really remember it.” Richie was good, but Eddie was better, and that was a total, bullshit lie. But they were almost complete strangers. It wasn’t like he’d done anything to earn the truth. So he hummed appreciatively, called him a klutz, and pulled him down into a kiss that lasted for another ten minutes.

“I should probably shower,” Eddie said between soft kisses down Richie’s jaw. He chuckled when Richie let out a whine that he could feel through his heated skin.

“Ugh, why?”

“I don’t wanna fall asleep gross, that’s why.”

“Then don’t fall asleep,” he said, skating his hand across his hips so that the heel of his palm just barely brushed his half hard dick. He smiled down at him, eyes dark, and Eddie felt his stomach swoop.

They ended up having a second round. Eddie went to sleep sweaty and gross.

 

He woke up twice that morning, and was dead to the world outside of those two times. The first time was when his 5:15 am alarm went off. Richie practically jumped out of bed when _womanizer_ blasted from his phone, and Eddie wasn’t much better.

He scrambled for his nightstand. _Superstar, where you from - how’s it goin’?_ He phone wasn’t on his nightstand where he usually kept it, and his sleep muddled mind tried to remember where the fuck he put it. _I know you got a clue what you’re doin’._ He’d never taken his phone out of his fucking jeans, and they were thrown to the floor somewhere. _You can play brand new to all the other chicks out here, but I know who you are, wh--_

Eddie dismissed the alarm with a sleepy sigh and tossed it back onto his nightstand where it belonged. Richie was looking at him in some kind of way, half lidded and soft, and he was too tired to understand how heavy the weight of it felt on his shoulders.

“I gotta leave?” Richie asked, deep and damn near unintelligible from sleep. Eddie slipped back into bed.

“Mmno. ‘S for my run. Back t’sleep, baby.”

He didn't have to be told twice. Eddie fell asleep to the sound of his snores.

The next, and last, time he woke up was sometime in the early morning. Blue, just-before-sunrise light filtered into his room. He breathed deep, stretching until his joints cracked like a rickety old rocking chair. He stared at the ceiling listened to the sound of talking from his kitchen.

Then he came to his senses and shot up straight in bed. There was talking coming from his kitchen. Richie was talking to his roommate.

Eddie threw the covers off himself and dug in his drawers for a pair of fresh underwear. Unable to find his own, and grimacing when he remembered that he’d taken it off in the living room, he pulled on Richie’s shirt. He had to hold the ends of the sleeves so they didn’t completely cover his hands.

He followed the sound of light conversation and laughter to his kitchen, where his roommate, Bill Denbrough, sat at their island. Richie leaned against the counter, sipping coffee. There was a tattoo on his chest that Eddie hadn’t noticed in the dim light of the bedroom. It was the lunar cycle charted neatly in a black and white circle, just over his heart. He was wearing his jeans from the night before, unbuttoned and unzipped. Knowing him, even as little as Eddie did, it wasn’t a purposeful choice to seem sexy. He probably just got distracted and forgot.

“There he is,” He announced the moment he caught sight of him in the hallway, pulling Richie’s attention over to him and making him brighten. Eddie tugged the hem of his shirt over his thighs, trying in vain to cover the litany of marks Richie left. Bill grinned around his coffee mug and said, “Just bringing home some food?”

Eddie forced out a laugh, which may have turned genuine when Richie made a comment about being a whole meal, and slipped around Richie to get himself a cup of coffee. He stood on his toes, the backs of his knuckles brushing against Richie’s shoulder when he reached for a mug, and whispered in his ear, “Barn door’s wide open, Hot Shot.” Richie furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and looked down at the front of his jeans. The moment he realized his mistake, he almost spilled his coffee trying to fix it. Eddie snickered at him. He blew onto his coffee and glanced back at him, feeling his eyes burning holes into his bare legs, and caught something interesting on top of the fridge.

“What’s up with Barf?” He asked, looking to Bill and jerking his chin in the direction of their ugly, twitchy cat curled up on their fridge. His name was actually Bartholomew, but given that he always looked like he was two seconds from a nervous hurl, they called him Barf instead. Richie raised his hand, flaunting a nasty scratch, and Barf flicked his crooked tail in agitation.

“He doesn’t like me,” he said mournfully.

“Jesus Christ.”

“Yeah.” He shrugged and rested his battered hand back on the countertop. “He can probably tell I’m a dog person.” Eddie hummed and sipped his coffee. Richie rinsed out his empty mug in the sink. “Also, I should probably go, ‘cause if Bev sends me one more dick emoji I’m gonna flip.” He crossed the room to get his bag, and Eddie followed him.

“You want me to drive you?” He asked.

“Nah, it’s not that far.” Before he turned to the door, Eddie snapped his fingers.

“Oh! I never got your number, man.”

“Shit! That would’ve been a damn travesty, never talking to you again.” Richie took his phone out of his pocket and added Eddie’s number per instruction. He sent him a text so Eddie had his, too.

“I should give you your shirt back,” Eddie said, although he had no intention of taking it off. Richie put his hand on Eddie’s hip, rubbing his thumb over the bruises from his harsh grip, and used the other to cup his jaw. He touched Eddie’s lower lip with his thumb, parting them just enough that he could taste him when they kissed.

“Keep it,” he said. “It’ll give me an excuse to come back.” He gave Eddie’s ass one last squeeze before pulling away completely. “Thanks for a great night, Eds.”

“Couldn’t’ve done it without you,” he said awkwardly, wishing the floor would eat him whole. Richie just laughed. He slipped out the door with a bright smile in his direction, and Eddie was sighing the moment the door was closed.

“You know, you can tell me you have a boyfriend without sneaking around. I’m not your dad,” Bill said from his place at the kitchen island. Eddie jumped.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” he said. He worried the fabric of Richie’s shirt between his fingers. “I just met him last night.” Bill choked.

“And you _slept_ with him?” He asked, incredulous. Eddie didn’t answer. “ _You?_ ”

“Okay, now you’re just being mean.”

“No, n-n-nn-- hm, no, I’m just saying, he’s--” Bill made a vague motion to the door, “exactly your type, y’know, dorky, kinda… rough around the edges. He has a sad backstory and everything - did you see that scar?”

“You’re making me uncomfortable,” he said, frowning at the embarrassed heat rising in his cheeks.

“Is he in a band?”

The longer Eddie didn’t answer, the more Bill struggled to contain his amusement. He twisted a lock of hair around his fingers for something to do with his hands and muttered, “He’s the drummer.” Bill smacked the countertop and snorted. “Shut up, okay? Don’t be a dick. I’m allowed to have a type.”

“Alright, I’m done.” Bill raised his hands in surrender. “I’m just saying, don’t get attached to this guy. Those types are always emotionally unavailable. Remember Evan? And Dylan? And Tyler? And--”

“I’m gonna take a shower,” Eddie huffed, not looking at Bill when he crossed the room. He collected fresh clothes for the day, just opting for pajama pants and a shirt since it was a Saturday and he had nowhere to go and nothing to do. He checked his phone for what he convinced himself was for the time, but was really to see the text Richie sent. His confidence towards talking to him took a hit after what Bill said, and the message on his lock screen, however silly, made his stomach flip.

**_pm - richie > eddie_ **

**richie  
** _[7:38 pm] hey cutie its the hot guy with a big dick from the bar_

Eddie tapped his foot on the cool floorboards. He sent back _i dont remember any big dicks, maybe u have the wrong number?_  and tossed his phone back on his messy and unmade bed.

He could still talk to Richie without getting attached. They had sex _once_ , how hard could it be? 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All he wanted was a little stress relief. He could take a hot bath with one of the bath bombs he never had time to use, or steal some of Bill’s lush face mask and watch time lapse youtube videos until it was one am, or, maybe, just maybe, act on the need that rested in the pit of his stomach and stayed at an ever present, steady heat like a slow cooker to remind him how much he wanted to touch another man’s bare skin.  
> And he could do that, too, couldn’t he? It was the whole reason Richie gave him his number. He practically had a dick on retainer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jesus christ this took forever to write, i'm so sorry fjsagn. i'll try not to let it happen again, i just got mixed up with the pacing and i wrote like three different versions of this chapter so i really hope you like this cause i'm dying

Being a mechanic wasn’t always as rewarding as it was cracked up to be. It wasn’t the same fix-a-car-and-get-paid-for-it job that it used to be. There were shit laws that made it harder to get a decent pay for your time and people were rude and always trying to wiggle out of the cost like it was a negotiation. His knuckles were perpetually busted and bruised, he ached all the time, and he always felt like he smelled like engine oil. He hated it, and only pursued the job because he took an apprenticeship behind his mom’s back as a teenager so he was guaranteed a position at a body shop, and thought it was the best job he could get without the college education he couldn’t afford.

Some days, days like this, he changed brakes and oil over and over for hours on end until he felt like he was going insane, and even though his hair and his clothes smelled like he’d been doing something meaningful all day he couldn’t agree less. All he wanted was a little stress relief. He could take a hot bath with one of the bath bombs he never had time to use, or steal some of Bill’s lush face mask and watch time lapse youtube videos until it was one am, or, maybe, just maybe, act on the need that rested in the pit of his stomach and stayed at an ever present, steady heat like a slow cooker to remind him how much he wanted to touch another man’s bare skin.

And he could do that, too, couldn’t he? It was the whole reason Richie gave him his number. He practically had a dick on retainer.

Eddie sat in the driver’s seat of his car and jiggled his leg as he contemplated actually sending Richie a message. It wasn’t like they hadn’t already passed the awkward first text barrier - hell, they only knew each other for a week and the last messages they’d exchanged were nudes. He took a deep breath and held it in his chest as he typed out a quick text and sent it. He immediately tossed his phone to the passenger seat and pulled out of the parking lot. It buzzed a good ten minutes later, and he tapped a jittery melody on his steering wheel as he waited for a red light so he could read it.

**_pm - richie > eddie_ **

**eddie** **  
** _[6:08 pm] wya?_

 **richie** **  
** _[6:22 pm] @ home y_

He ran his tongue over his teeth and tried to think of the right thing to say. Eddie’s confidence only ran so deep, and it wasn’t easy to say _i’m in the mood to have a dick in my mouth if you’re free!_ even to someone that he knew exclusively through sex. The light changed to green before he could decide, and he decided to just wait until he got home himself.

Which, of course, meant that he sat in the parking lot of his apartment complex and worried his lip between his teeth, staring at the simple message and trying to think of something flirty, casual, and to the point all at once. Everything that came to mind just made him laugh before he could even type it out. Eddie huffed and just told the truth, _in the mood & free if u are _, which was good enough.

He blankly stared at the screen and waited for a response, unbuttoning the top buttons of his uniform shirt so he could breathe. His phone vibrated in his hands, and he hummed when it vibrated again while he unlocked it.

**_pm - richie > eddie_ **

**richie** ****  
_[6:41 pm] u gonna ravish me boo thang?_ _  
_ _[6:41 pm] u can come to mine_

 **eddie**   
_[6:42 pm] sure wdy live_

 **richie**   
_[6:43 pm] 29 neibolt st_

 **eddie** **  
** _[6:43 pm] very funny where do u live_

 **richie** **  
** _[6:44 pm] thats were i fucking live dude_

 **eddie** _  
_ _[6:45 pm] neibolt is lit a murder mansion_

 **richie** **  
** _[6:46 pm] fuck u thats my house_

 **eddie** _  
_ _[6:46 pm] fine but if u kill me ill be mad_

Eddie shut off his phone and tossed it to the passenger seat again. He scrubbed his face with hands that smelled like dirty oil and metal and fixed his hair in his rearview mirror. Not unkempt but not too neat, either, a middle ground that said Eddie cared about his appearance but didn’t make himself up for Richie. Casual, because that’s what this was. Even if his heart beat a little faster at the thought of seeing Richie again, of tasting his lips, of feeling his hands burning his skin. He started in the direction of Richie’s house, thankfully on the way from his apartment.

Neibolt had a history, and it wasn’t good. It stood at the edge of town, timeless and rotting just outside of a deep patch of forest. In the fifties it was the den of a child killer, and through the seventies it was a heroin safe house. It was a house that kids either sprinted past or darted up to the front door to slap their palms against the wood and gloat their bravery to their friends. The last time Eddie was anywhere near the house he was fifteen and forced to go in on a dare, got spooked from some noise in the second story and bolted down the stairs so fast that he stumbled and went head over heels over the steps, badly spraining his wrist. Back then it had been dilapidated and abandoned, so eerie it was almost cartoonish, with broken, boarded up windows and floorboards so rotten they were soft under his feet.

When he pulled into the short driveway of Neibolt once more, it was still old and run down. The screen door swung open and banged back shut at the will of the wind, the old paint on the house was still chipped and the wooden panels were rotten and sagging. But it was obvious that improvements were being done. The porch was all freshly built with a nice, dark grey stain. The grass was manicured and green, not overgrown and brown. A car port was attached to the side of the house, and it covered an ATV and a rusty green pickup. There was an odd, corral type structure that led to the wooded area behind the house.

Richie sat on the front steps, in black sweats and a hoodie with nothing on underneath, talking to a dog that wandered the front yard on three legs. He brightened at the sight of Eddie’s car and raised his hand in a wave. The dog wagged its cropped tail in an excitement that wiggled its whole body. Eddie parked in the driveway and slipped a few condoms from the stash he kept in his glove box into his wallet, not wanting to leave protection up to chance. He met Richie in the middle of the yard, his dog walking around Eddie in circles and sniffing his legs. Eddie hummed at the sight of him, standing too close just because he knew he could.

“Since when do you wear glasses?” He asked, and Richie self consciously adjusted them on the bridge of his nose with a smile and a breath of a laugh.

“I usually wear contacts,” he said. Eddie rested his hands on Richie’s bony hips, just barely tugging him closer.

“They look nice,” he said. He tilted his head upwards a little and raised himself up on his toes, an invitation for a kiss that Richie was happy to take. He leaned down and pressed their lips together, one hand cradling Eddie’s jaw and his other on his bicep. Richie angled his head to kiss him better, coaxing his lips open with his tongue and pushing past his teeth. Eddie reached his hands up, trailing his fingers up Richie’s chest as he went. He pulled him closer with a hand at the back of his neck, playing idly with the baby hairs there, and smiled against his lips when a soft tug earned him a sharp inhale.

The dog whined impatiently at their feet, and they broke apart.

Eddie pressed his kiss swollen lips together, a laugh bubbling out of his chest of its own volition. “Um,” he said intelligently, and looked at anything but Richie’s lustful eyes, magnified behind those thick lenses. “Give me a tour?” He asked, and pointed to the house.

“Yes sire,” he answered, in the voice of a soap opera butler, and grinned at him. Richie squatted and patted his thighs, letting out a little noise of approval when the dog jumped into his expecting arms. He straightened with a little grunt, and Eddie looked at the dog with intrigue. When it was closer he could see the amputation was a fresh wound, sutured and pink around the edges. Hair hadn’t even fully grown back in from the operation. There were old scars on its sides, and one of its ears were fully missing. He followed Richie to the front door, opening it for him so he could carry the dog into the house.

“What happened to him?” He asked, gesturing to the dog. Richie hummed.

“Oh, I dunno,” he said. “She’s not really our dog, she’s a foster, y’know, cause my roommate is big on that stuff - fostering like, abused and injured dogs while they get better so they can find good homes? He says it’s therapeutic, cause-- well it doesn’t matter, but anyways, it could’ve been anything, but I think she was a bait dog.”

“That’s awful,” he said.

“Terrible, yeah,” he agreed, “but she’s gonna get a good home.” He set her down and ushered her off, speaking to her in a soft voice filled with _good girl_ ’s and _sweet baby_ ’s. Eddie’s heart felt like it was pushing out of his ribcage. “Let me show you around.”

In the house’s defense, the inside looked a _lot_ better than the inside. All the floorboards were new, the furniture, though clearly thrifted or second hand of some kind, was neatly arranged and clean, the walls were painted. Plants grew in pots in the corners and hung from hooks in the ceiling, bathing the house in green and growth. There were no rotten leaves piled up in the corners, no water stains on the ceiling, no whistle of the breeze flowing through broken windows. It was old, but not in the haunting, bone chilling way it was when Eddie was young. Now, it was just a house.

Richie listed rooms as they passed them, pronouncing foyer as _foy-yay_ with a twisted, mocking expression. He led Eddie up the same stairs that he tumbled down almost a decade ago.

“If I can: why here?” He asked, when they passed what had to be the third bathroom. Richie shrugged and opened a door on the left of the hallway, a sign was pinned to it that read _BEWARE OF DOG_ in bold letters. He made a sweeping gesture to encourage Eddie to enter what he quickly realized was his bedroom.

“We like our privacy, I guess,” he said. “It’s… nice to know that nobody really knows what you get up to.”

“Christ, you really do sound like a murderer,” he said, and Richie barked out a laugh before he could stop himself. He cupped Eddie’s jaw with both hands, a smile still alight on his face when he ducked down to connect their lips in a kiss. Eddie returned the kiss in kind, taking his lower lip between his teeth and tugging. Richie groaned and backed him against the wall. Band posters crinkled as his shoulders pressed against them, and he let out a breath through his nose.

“What d’you wanna do, baby?” Richie asked, trailing open mouthed kisses down Eddie’s neck. He sucked a mark to the side of his adam’s apple, and he had to put genuine effort into holding himself upright.

“Wanna touch you,” he admitted, embarrassment making his stomach turn over, and ran his hands up Richie’s sides. “Suck your dick maybe, I dunno,” he said. He felt Richie’s smile against his skin, and let his head hit the wall with a _thump_. His hands came to a rest on Richie’s shoulders and squeezed when Richie’s teeth scraped over his collar bone.

“Alright,” he said, his breath hot on his neck.

“Alright?”

“Mm.” He pulled away to look Eddie in the eyes, brushing stray hairs out of his face. “You can suck my dick if you want to.”

For lack of anything better, he said, “Cool,” and immediately grimaced. Richie pressed his lips feather light against his cheekbone and pulled away completely. He retrieved a condom from his nightstand. “What’re you doing?”

“Oral can be just as dangerous as other kinds of sex,” he quoted seriously, and Eddie had to bite his lip to hold in a beaming, cheek aching grin. He barely thought Richie would remember that, let alone take it into consideration. He pulled him into another deep kiss the moment he was in reach, taking handfuls of his hoodie and touching his tongue with his own. He let his hand find its way down to palm his half hard cock, the backs of his fingers running through the dark patch of hair of his happy trail on his way.

“How do you want me?” He asked softly, stroking the hard line of his erection through his pants, and Richie let out a sharp breath and bumped their foreheads together.

“On your knees,” he said, and Eddie’s stomach tightened. He gave him a chaste kiss before he lowered himself to kneel in front of him, Richie’s bulge right in front of his face. His own cock gave a half hearted twitch just from seeing it. He loosened the knot keeping his sweats secure on his hips and pulled them down just enough to expose his cock, flushed and leaking at the tip. Eddie took the condom out of Richie’s hands to keep himself from just taking his length into his mouth as it was.

He rolled the condom on and idly stroked his cock, glancing up at Richie’s face before he reverted his attention back to where it belonged. He ran the flat of his tongue up the underside, paying special attention to the spot just under his head that made him shiver last time. He closed his lips around the head and gave it a gentle suck. Richie was just as receptive as he was to it before, letting out soft little whines and adjusting his glasses. He reached down and pushed his hand through Eddie’s hair, eliciting a hum from deep in his chest.

He sunk halfway down and hollowed his cheeks when he bobbed back up. He jerked off whatever he didn’t take with measured twists of his wrist. He took more into his mouth with every stroke, eyes falling shut at the weight of Richie’s cock on his tongue and breathing through his nose. His own cock strained against the fabric of his pants, throbbing in time with his heartbeat and aching for attention. The ache turned to a harsh tug at his insides when Richie couldn’t help rocking his hips into his mouth.

“Fuck, Eddie, sorry,” he apologized quickly, twisting strands of Eddie’s hair around his fingertips. Eddie pulled off his cock, sucking his spit off the tip so it didn’t drip onto his chin.

“It’s fine,” he said, still moving his hand over his shaft. “You can do it if you want. Fuck my face.” Richie blinked in surprise.

“What?”

“You can fuck my face. I don’t mind.” He flicked his gaze between Richie’s glassy eyes, like it would give him an answer before Richie spoke it.

“Ok-- alright, sure. Okay,” he said, nodding quickly. Eddie lightly wrapped his lips around the tip of Richie’s cock, letting out a soft moan when Richie pushed into his waiting mouth. He kept his head still with a hand on his nape, pulling out and pushing in at a pace that was careful not to choke him. He was holding back, and Eddie knew it, and the hands bracing him on Richie’s thighs came up to grip him by the hips and pull him in closer. Richie let out a shocked moan as his head touched the back of Eddie’s throat. The hand in Eddie’s hair held on tight enough to hurt, his throat burned, his nose was buried into the coarse hair around his groin, his lips were wrapped around the base of his cock, and he was halfway sure he was about to come in his pants like a teenager.

With the unspoken go ahead to fuck Eddie’s face like he _meant_ it, Richie did what was asked of him. He pinned Eddie’s head against the wall and thrusted into his mouth, his cock slipping easily in and out of his slackened jaw as Eddie let out pleasured moans. The heavy pressure forcing his throat open brought tears to his eyes, and he squeezed his eyes shut to will them away. Richie whined out soft _shit_ ’s and _god_ ’s and _fuck_ ’s, chorusing his praise as he fucked Eddie’s throat. One of Eddie’s hands stayed braced on Richie’s hip, but his other reached down to fumble with the zipper of his pants, and he wrapped his fingers around his painfully hard cock and stroked himself in time with Richie’s thrusts.

“Fuck, baby,” Richie breathed, “you feel so good, take my cock so well, fuck, _fuck_.” Eddie moaned at the praise, his fingers bunching the fabric of Richie’s sweats. He felt himself getting close and hollowed his cheeks in an attempt to get Richie there first.

And he did, forgetting himself in his pleasure and holding Eddie still at the base of his cock as he came into the condom with cracked moans and soft grunts. Eddie couldn’t breathe, and his lungs quickly started to burn from the lack of air and the space behind his eyes grew fuzzy and cotton filled. His eyes rolled back as he stroked himself to completion, waves of pleasure curling in his stomach and setting the coil of heat between his hips alight. He let out choked noises and hoarse groans, fucking into his hand until he was completely spent with cum rolling down his softening cock and dripping onto the hardwood.

Richie pulled out of his mouth and he sucked in a deep breath, coughing into the back of his hand when the shock of cool air made his throat ache. He used his arm to wipe off spit that was starting to drip down his chin and find its way down his neck.

“Holy shit,” Richie said simply, and Eddie’s eyebrows drew together as he started to laugh. “Was that… too much?” He asked, and Eddie shook his head.

“No, I--” he cleared his throat to ease the raspy, hoarse quality of his voice, “I’ve had way rougher, trust me.” He licked his cum up from the web of his thumb and forefinger and took a moment to tuck himself into his underwear. Richie did the same, throwing the used condom into the trash bin. “Do you have anything I can, uh, clean the floor with?” He gestured to the cum on the floor, and Richie tossed him the box of tissues from his dresser. Eddie took care of the mess and tossed out the soiled tissues.

“So, uh.” Richie said hesitantly, when all was said and done and they were just standing in the middle of Richie’s bedroom.

“This was nice,” Eddie said. “Thanks.”

“Definitely, it was great,” he said. He raised his hand for a high five, and Eddie completed the gesture before he considered the fact he was high fiving a guy not ten minutes after he pushed his dick down his throat. Classy.

“See you again some time?” He asked, backing towards the door, and Richie nodded.

“Yeah, maybe I’ll return the favor.”

“Sounds good,” he said, even though he was halfway out of the room already. He waved half heartedly and ducked into the hallway, trotting down the stairs that led to the front door. The dog laid on the couch in the living room, eyes moving away from the tv playing old scooby doo reruns to Eddie as he darted out of the front door.

He unlocked his car and sat in the front seat, turning on the engine so the A/C could kick on and blow cold air onto his flushed face. He pressed his hands to his cheeks and let out a hysterical little laugh as he stared wide eyed at the steering wheel. Eddie almost couldn’t believe himself, no strings attached sex wasn’t exactly something he was known to do, let alone _twice_. He hadn’t even fallen asleep next to Richie this time, he just left.

“Hoo, boy,” he breathed, and scrubbed his hands down his face. He flipped down the sun visor to keep the harsh shine out of his face as the sun began to set, and pulled out of the driveway to go back home.

 

It was dark by the time he made it to his apartment complex, and he was thoroughly fucked out enough to not notice pulling into is parking spot next to Ben’s old Ford. He jogged up the steps with the idea in his head that he’d shower and brush his teeth and go to bed, but clearly there were other plans at work. He unlocked his front door, tossed his work bag to the side, and shrugged out of his work shirt without acknowledging the two men chatting over chinese takeout containers in the kitchen.

“Hey bud,” Ben called out. Eddie gave a two fingered salute in response.

“How was work? That bad?” Bill asked, and Eddie begrudgingly wandered into the kitchen.

“Nah, it was fine,” he said, his voice still rough. He leaned heavily against the kitchen island and decided he might as well eat something while he was there, and dug into a carton of fried rice with a plastic fork. With his work shift and everything that came after, he felt like he was going to fall asleep any minute. Ben and Bill talked amongst themselves, not asking much of Eddie who only nodded or hummed when he was addressed anyways. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he unlocked it to read whatever message he received.

**_pm - richie > eddie_ **

**richie** **  
** _[7:38 pm] hope u got home safe thx again for a good time_

Eddie smiled at his phone and tapped his index finger on the back of it as he contemplated sending anything back. He glanced up at Ben and Bill, bickering over the mischaracterization of the avengers in the marvel cinematic universe. Bill’s words from days ago rung in his head.

He set his phone face down on the counter and returned to his meal, and didn’t think about Richie again for the rest of the night.

**Author's Note:**

> leave kudos, comments, bookmarks, whatever you think is necessary.  
> remember you can find me on tumblr [@clavarioid](http://clavarioid.tumblr.com)  
> 


End file.
